


explode

by Ludy



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Angst, Hurt Tony, Hurt Tony Stark, M/M, Panic Attacks, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Sick Character, Whump
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-21
Updated: 2018-12-21
Packaged: 2019-09-24 08:36:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,025
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17097398
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ludy/pseuds/Ludy
Summary: After an Anti-Avengers group, disapproving of the Avenger's actions, turns into a terrorist group, plants a bomb under a house, Tony is left buried under it.Steve experiences an inexplicable panic attack and probes deeper which leads him to discover Tony Stark isn't as strong as he appears.





	explode

**Author's Note:**

> this is a very personal story for me since i experience panic attacks as well. I tried to incorporate my experiences and what I feel during an attack and hope it's okay. Kudos and comments are very much appreciated!

It took only an instant.  
And all went to hell.  
It was pandemonium.  
He had tried to save her, the young girl, trapped under a collapsed building after one of that shitty new group called Anti-Avengers had lured them to the site and planted a bomb. Seemed like it was more than one, Tony thought. First he felt the stones vibrate, then he heard the sound – the next few seconds passed, but he wasn’t able to do anything.  
Something heavy was holding him down, he couldn’t move, he gasped for air helplessly, but the oxygen didn’t seem to reach his brain.  
The dust settled, filling the gaps of his battered iron man suit – the only reason he was alive and the young girl was buried under the rubble.  
Oh, god, he thought, desperately trying to move, but a steel beam held him down. It was laying across his chest, putting pressure on his arc reactor and causing him to gasp for breath frantically – but he couldn’t hyperventilate now, he couldn’t have a panic attack!  
Was he injured? Had he lost blood? Tony’s mind felt fuzzy, it wasn’t functioning like it usually was. It took him minutes to think of the obvious solution.  
“Jarvis,” he rasped, breathing flatly to not strain his chest even more. “Stats.”  
The seconds it took for his AI to respond stretched painfully, but finally, finally, it worked.  
“Sir, I’m afraid you hit your head pretty hard. Concussions, bruised ribs, the arc reactor is damaged.”  
“The – the girl,” Tony coughed, his chest clenching painfully. God. It hurts.  
The AI almost seemed hesitant, but JARVIS answered obediently.  
“Sir, I’m sorry. She did not survive.”  
Tony had been expecting it, he really had, but still – he had hoped…  
Hope was for the weak.  
“Contact… somebody,” he said frantically, his breathing hitched and for a split second, pure terror clamped around his heart.  
“Anybody, oh god, please, anybody, somebody – JARVIS-“ Tony could hear his heart pounding in the eerie silence, his strained breathing, his lungs protesting against the dust he was inhaling.  
“Stark?”  
He hadn’t ever been that relieved to hear the Captain’s voice, although it only slightly calmed his breathing. Panic was making him immobilized. He couldn’t move.  
“I’m – I’m trapped down her. Girl’s dead.” The engineer tried to disguise the panic – he was quite good at it, hiding himself being paralyzed of fear.  
After a short silence, Steve answered swiftly. “We’re working on it.”  
“Work on it faster,” Tony demanded.  
“Are you injured?”  
“Not seriously,” Tony replied, ignoring the upwelling nausea. His finger tips were tingling and he could hardly move them, his chest felt even tighter than it had before.  
“Talk to you in a b-“  
“Wait!” Tony’s mouth moved before he could stop himself. “Please – I – I don’t want to suffocated down here with my last words being 'not seriously'.”  
Lying had become second nature to him. Nobody ever noticed – not even Pepper, especially after they had broken up she seemed to take extra effort to stay out of his way.  
“Fine,” Steve replied.  
The darkness, the dust – it reminded him of Afghanistan.  
He knew he wasn’t back.  
He couldn’t be.  
But he was – it was the same – the pressure on his chest, cold metal pressed against warm flesh, shrapnel in his heart, like a ticking time bomb, that would go off eventually.  
No, no, no! He’d be alright…  
Alright.  
Tony breathed out, shivering. He could hardly turn his head to the side to vomit acidic tasting stomach fluids, gasping for air.  
“Stark!”  
Steve. Right?  
“Yeah?” He replied, the tingling of his fingers and feet now in his chest.  
“Get – get me out of here!” He broke. He couldn’t keep up the façade any longer.  
“You are gonna talk to me now,” Steve demanded. “About anything. We’re gonna get you out soon.”  
“Can’t – about what?” Tony managed to cough out, desperately trying to push the beam off of his chest.  
“Calm – calm down.” He actually sounded a bit overwhelmed, for which Tony would have taunted him in any other situation.  
“I can’t breathe – I can’t breathe “, Tony gasped out and struggled against the steel grip.  
“I shouldn’t have saved her… I can’t… please…”  
“Tony – just – we’re gonna get you out. Don’t hyperventilate, it sounds like you are – breath with me,” the supersoldier said, taking deep breaths.  
Tony could hear them, sounding a bit like metall from his dented headpiece. His chest was rising and falling quickly, he desperately tried to mimic Steve's breathing.  
The clanking of metal against brick seemed to be coming closer.  
“They’re coming!” Steve promised.  
Tony gasped, his face feeling wet. He’d been crying. He’d been begging. He didn’t want to die, not like this, please, please, not like this…  
His consciousness began to fade when the wall broke, somebody squeezing through the hole and calling for backup. It sounded kind of familiar.  
The heavy weight was gone.  
Fresh air greeted his dusty face and he coughed, retching onto the ground, nauseated.  
He was out. He was alive.  
He couldn’t remember the past hour or so – everything before that was a blurry memory.  
“Woah, Tony,” a voice said next to him.  
“Are – are you sure you’re not injured?”  
Steve.  
Tony coughed and tried sitting up, nearly fainting. He tried to grin weakly, but it turned to a grimace and a pained yelp.  
“It’s okay,” he slurred.  
“Concussion… but nothing bad.”  
The Captain frowned and Tony tried to calm his rapid breathing, managing to sit up, although the world was spinning around him.  
“You didn’t sound that good down there,” Cap said in his usual direct way.  
Tony opened his eyes.  
Ambulances, police, and he was laying in the middle of it, his head on Cap's lap because of some bizarre reason.  
The sounds rushed in on him and his heart rate shot up, his breath hitching. 

He was fading in and out of consciousness, but he was in a car. A fast car. A race car?, Tony mused. That would be kind of cool.  
Steve was next to him along with Nat and Rhodey – or was it somebody else?  
He wasn’t sure. He gave in to the darkness.


End file.
